


Ceremony

by GintokisGirl95



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Sibling Incest, Sibling Love, Starkcest, Tags Are the Work of the Devil, Weird Westerosi Politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-20 07:26:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8241265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GintokisGirl95/pseuds/GintokisGirl95
Summary: The Westerosi politics call for all in any given House to be present when a husband and wife have their bedding ceremony. Everyone watched as King Jon and Queen Arya spent their first night together.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [unqueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/unqueen/gifts).



> "Oh man this reminds me how much I want a Jonrya wedding night fic where the politics make it so they have to do the bedding in public for witness purposes. Either in front of an alive Stark family or whatever...except with Jon making sure to cover Arya from the surrounding eyes with his cloak while he's sweating on top of her." 
> 
> I hope this is to your liking (and I apologise for it taking me so long to write this!!). If not, let me know! I can tweak it for you with no problem at all. Thank you very much for your suggestion!

The maids Sansa sent in to help stripped Arya of her clothing and forced her to take a bath. They argued that it was 'improper' for her to smell on her wedding night, though it was information she already knew. After she bathed and washed her hair, their hands were all over her body again, rubbing potent, flowery-smelling oils on nearly every inch of her skin, massaging her thoroughly until all of her sore muscles were relieved of the pain.

 _"It's best to be relaxed during the bedding, my Lady,"_ they said, and Arya remembered the way the word "bedding" made her tense in both despair and excitement. She also corrected the maids, telling them not to call her _lady_ because she was not one. 

She told them that Jon hated braids, both Northern and Southron style, and so the maid she actually liked, Lana, simply brushed out the remaining knots with patience. They talked about the bedding and how everyone had to watch. She knew that they both didn't want to do that, to have a horde of people watch them have sex, but it was tradition. There _had_ to be people there to witness the event, obviously for proof. The thought still bothered her, however. 

Soon after, they all left and she rose from her seat, staring at herself in a daze, eyeing every move she made in the mirror large and tall enough for her to see the entirety of her naked body. She _was_ different, and it was at that point that she began to understand why men looked at her so strangely. She wasn't a skinny girl with scraped and scabby knees that looked like knobs or sharp elbows. She was most certainly a woman grown now, and it made sense why Jon, Gendry, and even Jaqen looked at her so differently. 

Her left hand ran up her hip, almost admiring her appearance, even daring to say she was... _pretty_. Yet, as her eyes rested on the scars on her stomach and arms, the sensitive smooth skin much paler than her own, Arya felt nothing but embarrassment...embarrassment and worry. 

She paused, remembering the thought that came to her just a few years ago: _Jon would never care about what I looked like. He'd always accept me._

_Always._

The idea of being Queen baffled her. It wasn't something she _ever_ wanted, but there she was, waiting for her bedding ceremony to the King -- Jon Snow. 

It felt surreal, in a strange way. 

\----------

Everyone gathered in the master room, the one that once belonged to their parents. Sansa watched as two of the maids stripped Arya of her clothing, exposing her body to the cool air. Patiently they waited for Jon's arrival, the room quiet but the air heavy around them. 

It wasn't long before Jon came in, gently pushing people out of the way before he gave himself pause. Sansa stared at him while he stared at Arya, his gaze shifting up and down and back again. The way his eyes travelled from Arya made her wonder if she felt exposed, as it was a look that was filled with absolute desire and longing, full of scorching heat and fervour. And gorgeous their sister was, with her dark hair flowing in waves past her shoulders, her rosy nipples erect, and coarse, black hair covering the space between her legs. Even her body was full and curvy, the stomach flat. Her eyelashes batted every time she blinked, her pale skin glowed and she couldn't deny that she has changed _significantly_. Gone is the Arya Horseface she and Jeyne Poole used to tease; she was replaced by a beautiful woman, one who could rival the stories of their Aunt Lyanna's beauty. 

She shot him a look that begged him to close the distance. 

It took him a few strides to meet her, and when he did, their lips met in such passion. Jon's hands roamed all over her body until they tugged at her waist, pulling her closer for a deeper kiss. She moaned in his mouth while he pulled her down onto the bed, releasing his hold on her hips to pin down her wrists. Jon rained kisses all over her and travelled from her lips to the hollow of her throat, releasing his grip on her arms to push her legs apart until he hovered over her cunt. 

When his fingers swiped between her lips, Arya shuddered, struggling to breathe. Her chest heaved, her eyebrows knitted together, feeling Jon's enthusiasm to claim her. His onslaught of kisses and bites along her thighs made her gasp, and she shifted her legs until they were at an angle. Her eyes raked over the people watching until Jon abruptly paused, staring at her, his digits not penetrating her body. 

"No, Arry," he growled. "Close your eyes. Feel what I do to you."

Sansa was shocked to see Arya actually _listen_ to him, though it made sense; she always listened to Jon. He pushed a finger in, and then two, and the song that broke the silence was that of Arya's long, drawn out moan. 

They maintained a rhythm with his thrusts becoming attuned to the sounds of her whimpers and the shifts of her body. " _Jon,_ " she pleaded. 

"Arya," he groaned, his voice full of reverence. With a small smile, he removed his fingers, instead using them to spread her lips apart. Jon's tongue circled around her clit, his grey eyes looking up to see Arya gasp as she arched her back, her fingernails audibly scraping against the bedsheets. With each roll of the tongue, he tightened his grip on her hips, quickening his pace until she stiffened, her legs visibly trembling around Jon. She whimpered, her body quickly becoming limp and boneless. 

" _Jon, oh gods,_ " Sansa's attention focused on Jon and Arya, seeing Jon kiss the inside of her thighs again before he crawled up to meet her, their tongues swirling together in an effort to establish dominance.

Next to her, Sansa heard a maid gasp. Looking to her, she noticed the furious blush on her cheeks and her hand covering her mouth, her blue eyes wide. Before the maid could notice her glance, Sansa focused on the couple before them. 

Jon shed his breeches and tore off his beige tunic, looking all too eager to be with Arya. He found his place between her legs and guided his way to her upper body, tracing his fingers along the inside of one of her legs until he began guiding his cock to her entrance. As they kissed, he slowly eased himself into her heat until his length fully rested inside her. Jon stayed still, admiring his wife, his mouth forming an _o_ shape. He gave an experimental push, shooting a sideways grin as her moan broke through the silence.

 _Curse the politics of this country._ She shouldn't watch her siblings fuck. But, she knew that she shouldn't feel jealousy, either. She felt a radiating heat from her stomach while a dull ache began to pool between her thighs. Sansa found this more arousing than she should have, and the fact that they looked so similar seemed to only worsen such feelings, perhaps prompting more interest than normal. 

" _Arya,_ " Jon grunted, and Arya clenched her thighs around his hips, her head lolling and her eyes rolling. He cradled her closer to him as he fucked her; her nails scraped his back, prompting a groan from him. Sansa could have sworn she heard him whisper _I don't deserve you_ harshly against the hollow of her throat. 

Sweat beaded on his brow and locks of hair clung to his face, and he bent to suck on her neck, leaving a flushed mark for all to see. His forceful thrusts began to be less synchronous as he began to buck into her wildly, his rough pants filling the air. She had her hands full of his hair now, tugging on it when she was close. 

"Come for me, my love," he moaned. Arya shut her eyes, squeaking his name out, which he swallowed with a kiss. His hands trembled and his breath was ragged against her lips; his plunges were deepening but were not as rapid as before. His rhythm began to slow and they were left staring each other with their foreheads pressed together, their breaths steadily calming. His lips captured her own without a second thought. 

As they stared intensely at each other, Jon and Arya pulled themselves out of their trance, looking over at the crowd. No one approached them, but many did offer words of kindness and blessings to the couple. _May your reign be prosperous_ seemed to be the most common one. Tormund, a wildling friend of Jon's, even joked with him about the size of his _pecker_ before taking his leave. 

On the other hand, Sansa stayed in place quietly, watching the way Jon smiled at Arya and kissed her so lovingly. It was one of the first times since she's been here that she actually smiled, and Sansa thought she looked even more beautiful when she was happy. 

_She needs to be home,_ he once told her when they discussed Arya. She wondered if this was his intention all along, and if her _home_ was beside him...to be his. All of a sudden, she felt envious of how they managed to maintain their close bond, even after many years of being apart and with no contact. 

Sansa watched him wrap his cloak around her naked body and then rise, throwing on his tunic before ushering everyone out. Her eyes quickly went to Arya, who stared at Jon's back with a loving gaze and then to Jon, who was waving his hand toward the door. "I want to spend time with my wife... _alone_ ," he stressed the final word. Everyone left and he closed the door hastily. 

Once the door closed, Sansa heard nothing but giggles and the loud smacks of their kisses, even an inquiry about _the thing he did with his mouth._

They loved each other deeply. 

She wanted a love like that.


	2. Jon's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is actually the original second half of the story, written in Jon's POV. This is published only because of unqueen's urging, lol. Enjoy!

_The heart is all that matters,_ Lady Melisandre once told him in what felt like a lifetime ago, but staring at Arya, all in her naked glory, her grey eyes challenging his own, he felt his heart leap in his throat. The priestess was, beyond a shadow of a doubt, correct. His heart was before him and silently pleading for him to close the distance. 

_She was all that ever mattered._

It seemed to matter nought if Arya was quiet when she entered a room or where she was - his eyes would always find hers. And by all the Gods, when they did, it felt as if there were no other people around but them. Instantly, he blanked out the crowd of people standing there to watch their consummation unfold. 

He pushed past them and stood in place for a moment, his gaze trailing a flame of deep passion and desire on her body, watching her cheeks flush a lovely pink colour. He studied her carefully; her brown hair in smooth waves and locks covering her rosy nipples; coarse, dark hair that covered her lips, her body full and curvy -- a stark contrast to the girl that he left at Winterfell years ago. She had the long eyelashes that batted with each blink. Her pale skin glowed and she looked so stunning; he felt more hyperaware of her presence and he revelled in it. 

Had he ever seen someone so beautiful? 

In the candlelight, he could see the pupils in her eyes dilated; she was just as in the moment as he was. 

It took but three paces to meet her, and when he did, their lips met in such passion, his hands roaming over her body and through her silken hair, even going so far as to pull her hair down to tilt her head even more. He laid her gently on the bed, raining kisses all over her and travelling from her lips to the hollow of her neck and even further until she pushed her knees apart and he was left hovering above her core, the flesh between slick already. 

When his fingers swiped between her lips, Arya shivered, trying her hardest to stifle her moans by covering her mouth or by biting her bottom lip. Her eyes raked over the people watching until Jon abruptly paused, his digit barely penetrating her opening. 

"No," he growled, instantly grabbing her attention. "Close your eyes. Feel what I do to you."

Jon was rather shocked to see her abide his demand. He pushed his finger in further, then two, curling them and feeling her walls clench as she stifled a long, drawn out moan. Slowly he worked a rhythm, his thrusts becoming attuned to her whimpers and how her body shifted to meet his movements. 

With a small smile, he pulled his fingers out of her, much to her dismay, using them to spread her bare lips apart until he revealed the tiny bundle of nerves. He stroked his tongue up and down her anatomy, inhaling her scent and revelling at the sweet taste. He focused on her clit and gently licked in circles, putting Arya in a mixed state of shock and pleasure; the sensation made her back arch off the bed, her fingernails audibly scratching the furs in desperation. 

Her moans grew louder with each roll of the tongue, and it took a lot out of him to stop at once and just fuck her until she shook apart in his arms. Instead, he grabbed hold of her hips, dutifully licking her; he quickened his pace until he felt her stiffen and her legs tremble around him. He growled, desperately wanting to possess her, closing his eyes and letting her delightful moans fill his ears. 

He heard a woman's gasp in the distance, but he deliberately ignored it. 

_"Jon, oh gods,"_ she choked out a half-moan, half-sob, and his cock jumped at the lovely sound. He kissed the inside of her thighs and crawled back up to meet her, their kiss open-mouthed and their tongues swirling together, fighting for dominance. He wondered if she could taste herself. 

There were many things that he wanted to say but felt that he couldn't. He wanted to tell Arya everything in private, without the many pairs of eyes and ears watching their intimacy and listening assiduously to his sticky sweet words. _Those words would have to wait._

Instead of telling her, he decided to _show_ her. 

Jon unlaced his breeches, shedding them, and he tore off his light coloured tunic, all too eager to be inside her…all too excited to make love to his wife. _His wife, his Queen._ It felt right to even think such words. 

He departed from her and she whined from the unexpected distance. He hurriedly grabbing the cloak that he carelessly left on the floor. He wrapped it around himself, blanketing them even though he knew that it would soon be too hot for it. Jon made his way between her once more, tracing his fingers along the inside of her legs until he began guiding his cock to her entrance. Because she was already wet, it was easier for him to slip inside her. He watched her soften, throwing her head back in absolute euphoria. " _Jon_."

" _Arya_ ," he grunted, giving an experimental push of his hips. She rose her own to meet him, to deepen his thrust, and he couldn't help but kiss her again. She opened her mouth and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, their kisses deeper than before. 

They kept a steady pace, but each of Jon's thrusts were forceful, and as a response, her legs squeezed tightly around him. He breathed loudly in her ear, cradling her closer to his body as he started to buck into her wildly. _Gods, Arya, I don't deserve you…_

Sweat beaded from his brow and loose strands of his hair clung to his face, and he bent to inhale the scent of her skin, sucking on her neck until the skin flushed. He felt her body buckle underneath him and he felt her little nails claw his upper back, the scratches trailing down further and then back up again. She cried out his name once more and it felt like music to his ears.

"Arya…" _My queen, my salvation..._ "Come for me."

Jon watched her squeeze her eyes before she let out a sound that sounded almost like a squeal. Her walls clenched around him and the subsequent spasms were nearly too much to bear. Slowing his pace, he breathed heavily against her lips and spilled his seed deep inside her, each wave of his orgasm claiming his senses. Getting their emotions under control, he found himself beaming at her, feeling nothing but pure elation when she returned his gesture. 

He was so focused on her that he forgot there were others in the room watching them. Staring in her eyes, he couldn't help but smile once more. 

"I love you," he whispered in her ear. She shot him a lazy smile, saying the words in turn.

He rose, his bare body facing the people. He saw quite a few ladies with blushes on their faces, one with her hand covering her mouth, and a man stared at Arya, wrapped in his cloak. Slightly annoyed, he blocked his line of sight. "Alright, you all can leave now," he said, ushering them out. "I'd love to spend time _alone_ with my wife."

"I think a few of them are envious."

" _Think?_ " He laughed. "I _know_ they were." 

Arya gave him a delicate chuckle before drifting off to sleep. For some reason the sight caused a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach and the feeling only intensified when he encased her in his arms. Her breath heated the side of his neck and he welcomed the warmth. He sighed and closed his eyes, waiting for sleep to take him. 

_Bring her home,_ he remembered thinking once, smiling to himself when he realised that she was home. _Her home, beside me...as it has always been._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for dealing with my silly stories for so long! I'm happy to see that I have so much support from all of you! You fellow J/A shippers are awesome as all hell. <3

**Author's Note:**

> And as always, thank you for reading!


End file.
